Nandang Swamp, Bamboo Island.
On the mountain ridge stood the Flying Palace Cloud Hall and Mystic Carriage. Over five hundred disciples from the Mingcang Sect aligned themselves with the mountain’s contours, awaiting beside the mountain path.
The island was filled with enchanting fragrances, where peculiar flowers bloomed abundantly. Below the mountain path, jade stairs paved the ground, colorful pearls draped as adornments. Above, a Hua tent shielded the dust while silk curtains covered the skies. At the summit, four Hua Gai were erected, a reed hut constructed in the center, enshrining a Golden Furnace burning Immortal Incense alongside Treasure Spiritual Fruits.
Standing foremost among the Third Generation Disciples, Qi Yuntian led the front. Turning his gaze backward, his eyes swept past the gathered disciples down to the mountain’s base.
There gathered over a hundred cultivators, most of them Ming Qi disciples, only a minority were Xuan Guang Practitioners, with three notable Hua Dan Cultivators. However, their hair was stark white, their forms aged and frail, clearly nearing the end of their lifespan, seeking to end their karmic ties through the killing path.
Qi Yuntian sighed softly, speculating that after today’s battle, these hundred disciples would likely scatter like star flows and clouds drifting apart. His gaze shifted, landing upon Zhang Yan within the group, noting that his expression remained calm and composed, devoid of fear or hesitation, and he nodded faintly in approval.
At this moment, the disciples flanking the mountain path whispered among themselves. Someone pointed at Zhang Yan and muttered, "Look, that is Brother Zhang."
The person beside them focused their gaze momentarily with admiration blooming across their face, speaking in awe, "Brother Zhang is indeed gallant and exceptionally extraordinary. No wonder he dared to challenge the Six Rivers and Four Islands single-handedly, defeating twenty-six noble True Disciples in the process."
Zhang Yan, favored by the Zhou Family for marriage, already possessed an extraordinary demeanor. Now clad in a Dharma Robe, sword in hand, with his garments fluttering gracefully in the wind, he exuded an ethereal and immortal charm that made him stand out among the crowd — embodying an elegance that seemed detached from the mortal world.
A female disciple lamented quietly, "It’s such a pity that Brother Zhang must enter the Death Array today. No matter how heroic, he will become a mound of dust."
Someone felt displeased and retorted, "Absurd! Brother Zhang is favored by destiny; surely, he can avoid calamity and seize fortune."
Although this comment sparked wistful doubt among the others, no one rebuked it aloud.
This Evil Formation required the joint efforts of four True Masters to dismantle—how could ordinary disciples hope to survive it?
Before long, a sound resembling subdued thunder echoed above Bamboo Island. The crowd looked up to see a billowing cloud resembling a vast ocean, spreading miles wide and enveloping the terrain. Within, purple lightning exploded and roared, and in the blink of an eye, everything within a domain of a hundred miles became obscured by thick, pervasive mist.
"Master Sun’s dharma form descends; disciples humbly welcome our revered teacher." Led by Ning Chongxuan, dozens stepped forth, bowing in respectful salutation.
Gradually, the rolling mist receded, revealing a youth clad in golden robes and high crown, his rosy lips, and pearly teeth gleaming within the cloud. He entered a silver-threaded Hua Gai and sat down, waving his hand with a smile, "No need for formalities; you all know I dis kind of thing."
However, Ning Chongxuan insisted, "Rituals cannot be abandoned." He led the disciples to bow once more towards Master Sun before retreating and standing properly.
Master Sun appeared mildly helpless but swept his crystalline gaze outward. Suddenly his eyes lit up, pointing a finger, and said, "You must be Zhang Yan? Come forward."
Zhang Yan was about to take a step forward when a mist coalesced beneath his feet, lifting him up effortlessly. In the blink of an eye, he found himself standing before Master Sun.
Master Sun surveyed him for a moment before bursting into laughter, saying, "I’ve heard that your household keeps a number of Fish Maid Beauties. Since you’re about to enter the Death Array, they’ll become useless. How about sending me two of them? I’ll ensure there’ll be benefits for you in the future."
Zhang Yan responded with a slight smile, cupping his hands in salute, "Revered Master, if I do not return, I would let them go and allow them to return to their watery homeland."
This explicit refusal was clear, yet Master Sun showed no displeasure. Instead, he clapped joyfully and burst into laughter, saying, "When I was young, a Female Demon once guided me onto the Great Dao. Alas, she departed many years ago; even her Primordial Spirit vanished without a trace. Since then, I treat both humans and demons equally. What harm is there in keeping a Demoness? If you fail to escape the Array today, rest assured, your beautiful concubines will be protected by me and kept on Spiritual Paper Island. When you re-enter the Mountain Gate, I’ll return them to you. I’d like to see who dares trouble them!"
Standing on the side of the mountain path, Zhuang Bufan naturally heard this clearly. These words were evidently aimed at him. Though his expression remained unchanged, his fingers trembled slightly, and a cold sweat trickled down his back.
Just then, a fiery cloud gradually drifted in from the horizon. Zhuang Bufan’s expression visibly shifted, seemingly relieved, and he stepped forward with a bow, saying, "Disciple humbly welcomes our revered teacher." Following him, more than ten male and female disciples came out to kneel and formally salute.
The fiery cloud descended onto the clearing, exploding with a resounding boom. Sparks scattered, golden flames raged, and firelight rose dramatically. Amidst the blazing glow emerged nine colors and nine auras, dazzling as an intricate, dreamlike tapestry. When the fire radiance descended, a tall Daoist in deep purple robes appeared. With a flick of his sleeve toward Zhuang Bufan and the others, he entered a brocade-laden Hua Gai, seated himself, and closed his eyes without a word.